A procrastinator's ride through life – Late: A Cowboy Song

Theatre critic Graham Cleverly rides the highs and lows of Late: A Cowboy Song performed at the TNL.

26.10.2012

By Graham Cleverley

It would, I suppose, not be inappropriate were I to stop writing at this point, and send off an email saying the piece will be ready in a few day's time.

I could blame it on an infection acquired at the Theatre National's presentation of Sarah Ruhl's Late: A Cowboy Song, directed by Linda Bonvini, in which procrastination is the theme of the evening.

Mary, the central character (probably heroine from some points of view) is incorrigibly and defiantly tardy, raising irritation then suspicion then anger and finally near violence in her lover Crick, who becomes her husband when she is late in a rather different meaning of the word.

This lateness has of course a cause. It grows from her dissatisfaction, somewhat unspecified, with life in Pittsburgh with Crick, with whom she has been partnered since they were in the second grade. The two of them even share the same birthday, so it is pretty obvious from the very first scene, when the happy-to-be-unemployed Crick borrows $500 from the reluctant Mary's savings, that this marriage has only the proverbial snowball's chance of survival.

But back to the play in a moment. What made the evening a success was a triumphant bravura performance by Jenny Beacraft and Jules Werner as Mary and Crick - I write 'performance' singular since the two of them blended and fed off each other seamlessly – and where necessary, athletically - as they tracked the dissolution of the relationship from its original state, one as pristine and fresh as anything envisaged by Rose Franken. As Rose herself said, “Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly”, and Beacraft and Werner brought us both the passion and the silliness and the spectrum in between.

The third point of the triangle, Red, the advertised 'cowboy', who presents Mary with the opportunity to escape from her apparent destiny, was played less successfully by Claire Thill, plodding flatly through a part itself more than a little puzzling and muddy. Red is supposed to be the temptation that seduces Mary with visions of freedom and independence, symbolised by their happily riding together on a wickerwork horse (very nicely done by both actresses). But the character gives no hint, either in the script or the direction of enjoying any particular freedom herself, especially given the rigid uniformity with which she wears cowboy dress.

So we had a muddled woman unclear what she really wants from life, a man who is happiest playing house mother and looking at art, preferably modern: a mismatched couple evidently doomed to separate, even without the intervention of a third party. Surprises come there none, except that when the baby comes it is physically abnormal with genitalia of both sexes. An operation, it appears, makes the baby a definite girl. Details are unclear, but the misadventure, though much of it has been made of in publicity, has no effect on the rest of the play as far as one can see.

Luckily we also had some brilliant acting, some splendid theatrical moments (revealing and riding the giant horse; Mary rolling gleefully on the grass), many funny lines and many sad ones and some pacey direction - official running time 90 minutes without intermission, but the first night made it in 75-80 minutes. So we came out well ahead on balance, but I'd like to see Jules Werner and Jenny Beacraft again in something with a little more point.

Late: A cowboy song is performed at the TNL from November 6-7. For tickets, visit www.tnl.lu